TRINITY MUTTERED A
prayer, crossed herself, and caught a reflection of Earth and her own
pale face outside the portside window.

Then she kissed her
ass goodbye.

This is really
happening, kiddo. All the wheels are churning. Stand or fall. Live or
die.

The bomb detonated
with a deafening roar. Trinity sprinted past the angled crooks and
swarthy corridors of Section G, through the bowels of Artemis
Mining Station searching
for masses of her fellow slaves jolted out of sleep only standard
minutes after bed check should have commenced. The initial blast
shattered glass into thousands of radiant barbed fragments, scattered
debris in every direction, and launched shrapnel in a maddening rush,
pulverizing eight sublevels of community quarters in both Core and
Centauri sectors of the outpost.

Even set at its
lowest yield, the weapon was proving to be more systematic in its
destruction than the simulation had predicted. How did the insurgency
ever think to harness such power? My
God, Micah, this plan of yours had better work.